Revenant I
by onelildustbunni
Summary: In X-23 Innocence Lost, what if Presidential Candidate Johnson's last name was instead...Keller? Hellion and X-23, First of a trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:**Revenant**  
STARRING:**Hellion and X-23**  
UNIVERSE:**Totally AU**  
RATING:**M**  
SUMMARY:** What if the X-23's first target had a last name change from Johnson to...Keller? Hellion and X-23.

**Chapter 1  
**

* * *

__It happens so fast that he doesn't truly grasp what has happened until later. It happens so fast that it isn't real until he watches it on the news, and even then it's like he's watching it happen to someone else…someone completely unconnected to him. One moment he's smiling for a picture, each of his hands held by a parent. The photographer had asked them to say 'cotton candy', explaining—with false enthusiasm—that it would make their smiles look more genuine for the picture. Challenging, since mom and dad always look annoyed, and he…well, he'd rather be anywhere but here.

As the camera flashes, the crippled girl—standing to his left, in front of his father—becomes…something impossible. Something wet and warm splatters across his face, and he blinks instinctively. Then he sees it's red, and for a moment he thinks he's been injured. But it's not him, he quickly learns. It's the two adults behind them. Their hands slip out of his, and he stumbles backward into the photo drop, utterly confused. There's a lot of screaming and a lot of blood. People are trying to run.

She's not done. She dances like some sort of artist, pivoting on her toes, swinging her leg through the air, sweeping her foot across the windpipe of those who seek to stop her. Fists armed with shining metal blades plunge into stomachs and twist. He sees her cut off someone's hand, and feels sick, but too terrified to move, sprawled on top of the backdrop. By some miracle he doesn't wet himself.

And just as suddenly as it began, the dance of death is over. She's looming over him, breathing hard, her startling green eyes narrowed behind the thick, bottle-cap glasses. Strands of hair have escaped the strict braids on either side of her head, and now, instead of looking crippled, she looks deranged.

They watch each other for a few moments. She raises her fist. He scrunches his face up in a wince, but the blow never comes. Looking at her again he sees that she is hesitating, her fist shaking slightly in the air. Suddenly she withdraws the strange blades into her hand with a **SNAKT! **sound.

Before he can speak, the girl's head pivots around. Her expression changes. She turns abruptly…to go.

Swift, white-hot anger rushes through him, from his head to his toes. "**NO!**" he shouts, impressing himself with the power of his voice. He reaches out—with what aim he doesn't really know—and his choking rage emerges from his fingers in a green tidal wave. The girl is swept off her feet and slammed into the red-splattered wall across the room.

He looks at his fingers, astonished. His concentration breaks, and the girl falls to the floor. She scrambles to get to her feet, but it is too late; now even he can hear the sounds of sirens, and people shouting and screaming outside. He realizes that he needs to keep her here, needs to keep doing whatever he just did in order to stop this...animal. It's not hard to think about being angry, and so repeating his earlier action is the simplest thing in the world. He catches her again as she makes for the hallway, and somehow lifts her into the air.

A few moments pass with her struggling, and he is just about to lose his hold again when the doors bust open and the authorities come in. He feels a rush of relief when he sees someone he recognizes from TV: Captain America.

"S-she did it," he says immediately.

The costumed man looks at the girl in the air.

"Good work, son," he says. "You're very brave. I'll handle it from here, okay? You just let my team take care of you now."

_**...**_

**PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATE WILLIAM KELLER SLAUGHTERED ALONG WITH 25 OTHERS  
**_Killer captured by Captain America but later escaped_

By Gregory Smith

AT 10:05 a.m. PST, congressman and businessman William Keller-along with 24 other members of his party plus supporters-were slaughtered by an unidentified assailant at the Los Angeles Convention Center. The Police and Captain America have at this point declined to comment on the suspect, although it has been confirmed that the latter had captured the killer at one point, only to have him or her escape in transport. The Police have stated that they will be later issuing a warrant for arrest, pending further investigation.

Amongst the 25 people murdered was Keller's wife Elizabeth, and his personal assistant Judy Price. Other names have not yet been released at this time. The only surviving victim of the attack is the Presidential candidate's eleven-year-old son, Julian Keller. He has been taken into protective custody by the L.A.P.D. until further notice. There is no word as to whether he is an eyewitness, although it is strongly suspected.

Police chief Robert Peterson issued the following statement at 1:02 PST at a press conference: "There is no doubt that this is the work of a highly disturbed mind. The individual has combat experience, and is clearly a terrorist to the highest degree. Until further notice, it is advisable that all residents in the L.A. area practice caution around strangers and lock their doors. A safety curfew is being enacted. All residents of the downtown L.A. district should be in their homes by 9 PM. Residents will be informed as soon as the curfew is lifted. Our force is doing its utmost to protect the city, and is making every effort to identify and incarcerate the suspect that is possible."

**...**

So reads the yellowed newspaper clipping in the steel frame that sits on the highly polished walnut desk, along with a gleaming silver pen cup, a letter tray, and a sleek Mac computer, with a white casing. Behind the screen sits a young man. He's in his early twenties, as is evidenced by the fact that his still youthful and his hair—almost as dark as his black Armani suit—is free of grey. He has a slightly roman-shaped nose, and underneath that, a determined mouth and a strong chin.

His eyes are a very vivid and unusual shade of violet blue. They are trained on the monitor in an intense stare, as if the information it is displaying is something bordering on the divine. The tie around his neck has obviously been chosen to compliment his eyes, as has his light blue dress shirt.

Slightly to this man sits a shining, golden nameplate: '_Julian Keller, CEO and Chairman of the Board of Directors'_.

Behind the desk, sunlight is streaming in through the enormous glass window. It is apparent by the scenery that this office is many stories high, perhaps on the top floor, as the window offers an impressive, almost aerial view of the Los Angeles skyline.

**...**

Many stories down, a girl is approaching the same building with quick, energetic strides. Heads turn as she passes by, intrigued by her flawless and pleasing design.

She reaches the revolving doors to the lobby and impressively does not slow. When she emerges, she continues in a bee-line toward the employee at the reception desk. "Excuse me," she calls.

The receptionist is a typical nine-to-five office worker. She has sleek blond hair that speaks of maintenance, a pretty face that speaks of high-quality make-up, and somewhat underwhelming features such as grey eyes and a thin mouth. Her attire is a smart, crisp two-piece linen suit in a respectable tan. The golden colored plate on her desk reads 'Reception'.

Looking up from her magazine, she gives the girl a practiced smile, which fades when she notices the girl's startling green eyes. They seem to eclipse the rest of her face, even the bright red lips and the gloriously thick hair swept into an up-do. It looks like black silk. _I'd kill for hair like that, _the receptionist thinks, annoyed. "Yes?" she asks aloud.

Her visitor hesitates in a nervous manner. She's somewhat out of place. In the Keller building—with its marble floors and impressive architecture—everyone's wearing neutral colors like navy, black and khaki; this girl is dressed in a bright red skirt with matching stiletto heels. The little black cardigan she's thrown over her shoulders doesn't really tone the outfit down enough.

Finally she notices that the girl is holding a very crinkled looking piece of paper.

"Can I help you find someone?" she asks, smiling again. Maybe this is the daughter of one of her many bosses. She looks about the right age, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Didn't Ed mention just last week that his little girl needed a summer job?

"Um, yes." The girl shifts. "I have some business with Julian Keller," she says.

The receptionist blinks.

"I'm sorry?"

The girl frowns. "I-I need to see him. It's really important."

The older woman raises her eyebrows. "Ma'am...he's the _CEO._" Her ultimate boss, who she's spoken to all of three times. He rarely uses the visitor pauses. "Really?"

"Yes." She taps her well-manicured nails on the desk. "He doesn't do meetings with the public."

"It's a personal matter," the girl insists.

The receptionist's expression doesn't change. "He didn't call down to advise me that he was expecting someone."

"No, this isn't scheduled," the girl says. "It's really important though."

The receptionist purses her lips. "He doesn't enjoy being disturbed."

"Please," the girl says, her green eyes very wide. "I would really, _really_ appreciate the favor."

"Well..." the older woman hesitates, then decides that Keller probably won't kill her for informing him of the visitor. She doesn't disturb him often. "Fine, I'll phone up. What's your name?"

"Laura Kinney," the girl replies, in a relieved tone.

She leans back slightly as the receptionist picks up the phone and presses a few numbers. Five seconds pass, and then the other woman speaks. "Hi, sir. Linda the receptionist here. There's a Ms. Laura Kinney here to see you...claims it's a personal matter." She pauses. "I didn't think so. Sorry I disturbed you." Another pause. "Uh-huh. Right away." She hangs up the phone and looks up at the girl. "Sorry."

Laura wrinkles her nose. "Could I have his phone number?"

"...no." The receptionist raises her eyebrows again. "Look, ma'am, he said no. You can leave a message...or I will be forced to call security. Your choice."

The girl purses her lips. "Are those _really _my only options?"

"Let me think about it," Linda says, now thoroughly annoyed. "_Yes._ Please, leave."

"To hell with you!" Laura snaps, snatching her list off the desk so fast the paper makes a _crunch _sound.

She storms toward the door, and the receptionist rolls her eyes. _Teenagers._

**...**

"Son of a _bitch_," Laura says to herself, standing outside now. Her dark hair swirls around her in the breeze as she looks up at the top floor of the fifty-four story building where she knows her target is from a quick glance at the door's directory.

Perhaps target is a poor choice of words.

The names on the list still clutched between her fingers are actually the opposite of targets. They are the families of the people she's killed over the course of her career as X-23, back in the days of Weapon X. Which is long behind her now; ten years ago, to be precise. She's completing a final step in her journey to de-conditioning herself, and that is to confront the people she caused personal loss to. And then...will she finally be free?

Laura secretly doubts it. All she has to do is think of that moment when she had finished slaughtering a room full of twenty-four people, and the warm glow of achievement that she feels over _fitting in_ just...evaporates.

Nowadays, killing has taken on a different meaning for her. She weighs the consequences of killing deeply before considering it as a route of action. Imagines people she's grown to care for falling under her blades. Her friends at the school, perhaps. Her boyfriend. Maybe even Logan, if it weren't for his healing factor. As a consequence, she has killed very little in recent times…perhaps three people in the last decade. And even those were genuine dirt-bags that had it coming.

She reaches up and brushes hair behind her ear. _One step at a time. _She knows it all needs to start with this Keller guy, seeing as his father was her first primary target ever. She can't imagine anyone she traumatized more in her existence than that poor kid. She remembers catching his eye as she had been about to kill him…and hesitating, because she'd suddenly thought of the puppy they'd made her slaughter for the empathy conditioning. Something in his eyes had reminded her of that puppy. She'd heard echoes of her mother's whispers: _put it out of it's misery! _

Her hands had begun to shake. She realized—even then—that if killing a puppy was bad, killing a human child had to be worse. Her brain might have not quite understood why, but her heart had known right from wrong, and killing these things—the innocent things—was wrong.

That moment of hesitation was the start of a journey. Who had known the kid would have powers, too? Powers that would lead to her capture? Captain America had detained her. She counts her blessings that it was _him, _because anyone else would have smuggled her to S.H.I.E.L.D. to be used for further killing. Not Cap though. After a brief struggle with his morals, he'd contacted Logan and together they had agreed that Laura was best placed at the school. A bullshit story about the killer escaping had been publicized, and instead of growing up in a cell (either facility or prison related), she'd been raised in a school by a man with a strict code of honor and the wisdom to help nurture her emotions.

So here she is, acting on emotions; attempting to make restitution for those she has wronged. Apologizing to the living family of the twenty-four people she'd killed that day is how she will put X-23 behind her forever…but that's easier said than done. It's not like she can just buy them flowers and a box of chocolates. Hallmark won't really help her out either. She isn't even sure how to handle it yet.

All she knows is, the process will start with the boy she'd spared.

Well, apparently not a _boy _anymore. He must have grown up, if he's the CEO of the Keller incorporation. Laura arches her eyebrows. She really hadn't expected _that. _She also hadn't anticipated being denied access to the persons she needs to apologize to.

Laura sighs and then rubs her temples. _Think. _Yes, she can scale the side of the skyscraper with ease, but it would be very awkward in a skirt and stilettos. She purses her lips again, then has an idea: _shopping. _

She heads down the street, her expression considerably brighter.

**...**

Having just pulled herself over the edge of the skyscraper's roof garden, Laura straightens out her skirt and swings her new bag to her front. She checks the parcel inside, then pulls out her heels and pulls them on, taking a few moments to make sure they are securely fastened before surveying her new surroundings.

She is standing in the middle of a gravel expanse filled with plants. After a moment she spies just what she's looking for: an access door. Heading towards it in careful strides so as not to twist an ankle, she pops one claw—_**SNIKT!—**_and eyes the door's lock. Electronic keypad. Severing the connection will probably trip an alarm in the building, probably silent. She hesitates, then shrugs. She can reach the guy before the guards come...and giving _them_ the slip after won't be all that hard.

She slips her claw into the space between the door and the frame, then pushes the surface inward and retracts her claw—_**SNAKT! **_Now Laura is standing at the top of a short flight of stairs. At the bottom is another locked door. She descends quickly and repeats the process, then takes a deep breath and enters the office building.

The first thing she notices is that the carpet is white and luxurious, a surprisingly bad choice in her opinion. White just attracts _so_ much dirt-and in her experience, blood. She straightens, then pulls the door closed behind her and heads up the hallway quickly.

She sees that the doors up here aren't numbered, so she will have to rely on name plates. After about a minute of walking, she reaches a heavy oak door, labeled with what is a golden plate. She can determine this from its chemical scent. It reads:

_Julian P. Keller  
CEO & Chairman of the Board of Directors_

She knocks on the door, three times, smartly with her knuckles. Her heart is beating a million times per minute, and she feels a little dizzy now that she is actually _doing _this.

"Come in," a man's voice calls. It's muffled by the wood, but she can hear that is about mid-range in depth and tone, and that he is speaking with an accent—most likely of Los Angeles origin.

Laura takes a really deep breath and reaches for the doorknob.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I've never gone on hiatus. As noted many times before, I'm a student who also has a job. Not a lot of time left for fun...and I have to reformat everything for the uploader thingamajig...therefore I tend to write more often than I update! For the person who said they saw a similar story before, yes, that's because this is the same story. I had titled it 'Like a Boss' before and posted the first chapter, but it got 2 reviews and then was lost to obscurity. I deleted the original story, did a bit of editing/updating, and decided to re-post it as 'Revenant', a title which is a bit more descriptive.**

**Hope everyone enjoys! ^^**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Laura opens the door, and for the second time in her life she lays her eyes on Julian Keller.

She stops on the threshold, surprised.

He is sitting behind the desk, reading off a clipboard and mouthing numbers to himself in a very inwardly focused way. Her first impression is that he is sophisticated…which directly contradicts the memory of him that she's been holding on to for the last ten years: an eleven year old boy whom almost wet his pants in fright upon seeing her for what she really was. Also he's pretty good looking. _Very _good looking, if she's honest with herself. His features are chiseled out quite nicely, which she had not been expecting as he'd been a rather chubby child.

"Well, geez, I like my food _warm,_" he says without looking up, clearly expecting someone else.

Laura doesn't know what to say. She finally decides on action instead of words. Pulling out the parcel, she moves across the abruptly dark carpeting of his office toward the table in a timid manner, like a mouse approaching a dragon of some sort. She places the parcel on his desk, mesmerized.

"Thanks," he says absently, still not looking up.

Laura racks her brain for a response, and comes up with nothing. She feels stupid and useless, a very unusual sensation for her.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are...you..." _Now_ he looks up, his expression preset with annoyance. This fades quickly into confusion, and his eyebrows draw together.

"Are you new here?" he asks.

"Um," Laura says, unhelpfully. And then she starts babbling the longest stream of shit she's probably said in her life. "Not really. No, I'm not. I mean-I've never been in this building before, but I'm not new. I, um, don't work here." She flushes.

He raises an eyebrow. Just one. Like he's beckoning her to continue.

Laura rotates her heel on the carpet. "I, um, I'm-"

"You're not that girl my receptionist turned away, are you?" he asks suddenly.

She brightens. "_**YES!" **_she exclaims, and he twitches slightly, in defensive reflex. The door in the background slams closed in a short burst of green, but she doesn't see that, only hears the vibration of the energy and the resulting impact of the door against the frame.

"Um, sorry," she says, and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't mean to yell."

"I'll be honest with you," he says, and she has trouble focusing on what he's saying because she's admiring how blue his eyes look. "I'm wondering if I should be hitting my security button."

"No!" Laura panics. "I swear, I'm not here to hurt you. Look...I brought you food." She nudges the parcel forward slightly.

He raises the other eyebrow. "How the hell did you get in here?"

"I scaled the building," Laura says without thinking. She closes her eyes, upset with herself.

"So...let me get this straight. You scaled a fifty-four story building to bring me lunch?"

"Oh, my god," Laura groans. "This is _not_ turning out how I planned it at _all_." She covers her face to hide the all-encompassing flush .

He pauses, leans back in his chair. "Sit," he says, gesturing at the empty seat in front of his desk.

Laura sits down.

"What was your name again?" he asks.

"Um...Laura Kinney," she says meekly, from between her fingers.

"Laura." He pauses. "That's a pretty name."

"My mother gave it to me," Laura says. The name had been the _only_ thing her mother had given her-the only thing that was hers in the facility.

The man grins, and it seems to light up his face. "Most people get named that way," he says, and she suddenly feels retarded again. "So, Laura...what did you bring me for lunch, and how do I know it's not poisoned?"

"Um," Laura says. She pauses. "I brought you sushi." Another pause. "I can eat some in front of you, if you'd like."

"And how do I know that's not planned? Maybe you left one piece un-poisoned on purpose."

Laura gazes at him again, focusing on how nice he looks when he smiles-very relaxed-and the truth just comes out again: "No, I wouldn't need to do that. I have a healing factor."

He raises his eyebrows again. "Healing factor?"

"Yeah," she says, a little breathlessly. A few moments of silence pass.

"You're a mutant?" he asks.

"Yup," Laura agrees, now concentrating on the way his mouth turns into a little frown when he's serious. "Biggest...uh, mutant, ever."

"Hmmm." He seems to contemplate something. "So, Laura...are you looking for a job?"

She doesn't answer him for a moment. Then-realizing he expects a response-she nods fervently. "Oh, yup. Of course."

He grins again. "You want to be my new lunch girl? Because I ordered a falafel about an _hour_ ago, and I just don't believe much effort was put into making sure the restaurant knew I wanted one. They usually take around ten minutes."

"Oh-er," Laura pauses. _How could this have gotten so awkward? _She swallows. How in the hell can she tell this man that she's the reason he's an orphan?

She can't.

"I'm waiting." He pauses. "I'll hire you on the spot. The building-climbing thing is the best service I've ever gotten, hands down."

"Okay," she says, confused.

"Good." He pauses. "HR is on the sixth floor, I think. They'll set you up with everything you need...like where we should put the money and stuff. I don't remember what the going rate is...does twenty an hour sound okay? You can do other things too. I'm a busy man and I've run out of time for things like refilling mugs and tying my shoes, just about."

"I'd _love_ to tie your shoes!" Laura blurts.

Silence.

"I desperately want to laugh at you, but I'm afraid of hurting your feelings," he says finally.

"Should I just go?" she asks, mortified.

"No, stay. I should take a lunch break anyway." He pauses, and smirks. "It's going to be a while before I let you tie my laces." He seems to be teasing her. She gets the double meaning, but is again confused. Is he telling her _no chance _or encouraging her? She feels funny inside. And, holy shit-

"-I have a boyfriend!" Laura exclaims, like she's just discovered this.

He blinks, and then he gives up and begins to laugh at her. She withers inside.

"You're so interesting I forgot what the hell I was doing before you barged in here," he says finally.

At that moment, his phone rings, and he glances at it. "Excuse me."

Laura feels thrilled at the chance to watch him, relatively unobserved. Her eyes linger on his mouth as he speaks, wondering what it would be like to make out with him. A few moments go by until she realizes he is speaking about _her. _

"Yeah, I know," he says. "She's sitting in my office right now...but I've decided to keep her, so you can call off the team, okay?" He pauses. "No, I'm serious. She's not a threat."

_Not a threat. _Laura feels a chill pass down her spine.

_If only he knew. _

He hangs up the phone. "Sorry about that. Apparently you tripped some alarms coming in here."

"I figured," Laura replies. Pause. "Sorry."

"No harm done..." he waves his hand in the air. "But maybe use the elevator next time, okay?"

She studies his fingers for a moment, and her eyes suddenly narrow in on his ring finger, but the moment of panicked alertness passes-there's nothing there. She relaxes.

"Okay," she says.

He raises his eyebrows again, having caught her examination, and she flushes and looks down. Her eyes settle on the package of sushi. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asks, to change the topic.

"Yeah, probably should." He pulls the carton forward and opens it. "Looks pretty good...where's this from?"

"Kyoto Steakhouse," Laura says absently. She watches him break the accompanying chopsticks apart, and then as he selects a piece and eats it.

She bites her lip.

He waves a small circle with his chopsticks, then manages to swallow. "It's rude to stare, you know."

Laura flushes. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He takes another piece with the chopsticks. "This is really good. Add it to my lunch list, okay?"

_Lists. _Laura cringes. "Okay. Wait-I'm supposed to keep track of-"

"My preferences, yeah." He eats the piece, and waves with the chopsticks again to indicate he has something to say. He swallows, then finishes his thought: "They're pretty simple…the only thing I don't like is mushrooms…and I like my coffee black as my soul. When I have it, which is only on Mondays."

"Oh." Laura nods. "Okay. Wait, should I take notes or something?"

"Nah. Bring something in tomorrow and we can talk over what you'll be doing." He scrunches his nose. "I'm pretty sure I have time after five...check with Meg. My personal secretary...she handles all my scheduling."

"Oh," Laura says again. "Ok."

"Do you live around here?" he asks next.

"Uh-no." She pauses. "I'm from the X-Academy. In New York."

His brow wrinkles. "Isn't that going to be a long commute for you?" he asks.

Laura thinks for a moment. "I'll make it work."

A moment of silence. "You're going to cross the entire _country_ every day just to bring me lunch?"

She pauses. "I could move...I've already learned everything at the school," she explains.

Again, she receives only that one raised eyebrow in response. "Really," he says. "Must be a doctor by now." He eats another piece of the sushi.

"Not really." Laura feels stupid. "Did you go to school?"

He grins again. "I kind of had to." He gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, and she switches her gaze to the row of diplomas hanging on his wall: two bachelor's degrees—one in business and one in philosophy—and a master's degree in Business Administration, all from UCLA.

Laura feels even stupider, if possible.

"They're very...official looking," she says, sheepishly.

"Yeah. I like to admire them when I have time." He pauses. "Which is never. There's just _so _much that can go wrong when you're running a multibillion dollar company." His voice is full of complaint, but his face says otherwise: he _loves _what he does. "I'm probably fucking myself in the ass by taking a lunch break today. It'll hit on Monday...I'll get yelled at big time."

"People yell at you?" Laura asks. "I thought you were the CEO."

"Well, they whine especially loudly. And then _I _yell at them." He selects another piece and eats it.

"Maybe I'll get going." Laura gets to her feet.

A moment passes.

"Did you have something you came up here to talk to me about?" he asks.

She looks at the floor. "I did. But...I don't think I can. Not right now, anyway."

"Okay," he says, to her surprise. "Will you be back tomorrow?

"Um, sure." She hesitates. "Do I need to dress differently, or..."

"I like the way you dress," he says, his eyes now on her figure. "It's up to you."

"Okay." She pauses, brushes her hair behind her ear, and backs toward the door. "Sorry I disturbed you. It was...nice to meet you again, Mr. Keller." She turns, and reaches out toward the doorknob.

"Again?" he asks, in a puzzled tone.

She freezes, her fingers resting lightly on the handle, and for a moment isn't sure what to say. "I didn't mean that. I'm...not really speaking straight, you know?"

"I noticed." He grins. "I'm not sorry."

"Huh?"

"That you disturbed me." He pauses. "It gets lonely at the top, you know?"

She gets the feeling he's not talking about just the top of the office building, and she gives him a small, uncertain smile. "Is that why you want me to come back?"

"Could be." He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. "You can call me by my first name, you know."

Laura senses that he doesn't extend this offer to many people. "Okay. Have fun with your paperwork...Julian."

"You're mean," he says, scowling.

She opens the door, closes it behind herself, and stands for a few moments in the hallway, her eyes bulging slightly as she exhales hard through her mouth.

_What in the blue fuck just happened? _She wonders.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Glad you're all enjoying this! Yes, this Laura is a little different. I'm writing all sorts of different spins on Laura lately. I think that this is what Laura might have been if she came to the school before too much damage was done...and when she was still in a very formative stage, around 10 years old or so. As for Julian, you will get insight into what he's been up to a little later in the story. It's a mystery, enjoy it! :)**

**Chapter 3  
**

* * *

Laura wakes in the hotel room the next morning, and for a little while lies perfectly still, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Then she reaches for the iPhone sitting on the nightstand, selects _contacts, favorites, _and then presses on the top listing.

A few rings, then the receiving end picks up the call.

"_Laura!" _Comes a familiar voice, sounding full of excitement. "_I've been waiting since yesterday! You said you'd call right after-" _

"I know, Jubes," Laura answers, sitting up. "Things didn't go as planned." She pauses, looks out the window of the hotel. She can see the skyscraper of the office building from here, and even at a distance, it looks impressive. Forbidding.

He's probably in it right now.

_"What do you mean?" _Jubilee demands, her voice full of suspicion and contempt. "_You chickened out, didn't you? I just _knew _it, I should've come with you." _

"Well..." Laura winces. "That's not quite what happened." She swallows. "I…I did it. I got into the building and met the first guy on the list face-to-face. He's the CEO of his dad's company now."

_"And?" _Jubilee asks.

_"_I couldn't do it." She pauses. "I can't really explain what happened...but he offered me a job, and I kind of took it."

A moment of silence.

_"Are you on _crack_, Laur?" _

"No." Laura rubs her face. "He was really...nice...and not at all what I expected. I-I just couldn't-"

_"Was he hot?" _

"That's not the issue here," she says, trying to sound indignant.

_"He was, wasn't he?" _Jubilee's voice is accusing.

Laura winces. "Very."

_"Damn. I guess when you fuck things up, you _really _fuck things up." _Jubilee sighs, probably shaking her head. "_You're still going to tell him though, right?" _

"Of course." She pauses. "I just need a little time."

"_Right._" Her friend's tone makes it clear that she doesn't believe her.

"I will!" Laura protests. "I just-it's hard, okay? I didn't expect to actually _care_ about what he would think of me!"

_"Because it's fine if your apology isn't genuine,_" Jubilee says, sarcasm dripping from her tone. _"I can see how that's a step towards redemption." _

"I didn't mean it like that." Laura rubs her face again. "He...I looked at him and my brains just completely went out the window. I actually ended up saying some really stupid, embarrassing stuff. It was like I was a kid in high school with a crush. It was just _so_ bad."

_"I shouldn't have let you do this on your own." _Jubilee sounds amused. _"Should I come out there?" _

"No, I've got it." Laura pauses. "Just give me time. A week, say."

_"You're not planning to sleep with him first, right?" _

"Because that would _really_ make me an asshole." Laura bites her lip.

"_Of the third degree." _Jubilee pauses. "_Seeing as you and Josh had something going on...fourth degree." _

"Of course I'm not planning that." She stares glumly at the bedspread. "Damn."

"_Just do it and get it over with. Do it today." _

"Yeah." Laura's voice is full of resignation. "Okay. I guess putting it off won't help."

"_You never know...maybe he'll understand the circumstances and forgive you," _Jubilee says. "_Remember, I had the chance to get even for what happened to _my_ parents...and I didn't. And the dude didn't even have a _reason _like you did." _

Laura pauses. "Would you want to date your parent's murderer, though?"

Jubilee thinks about this. _"Yeah, not a very strong possibility." _

"I hate my life." Laura swings her legs over the edge of the bed. "Listen, I have to show up there at nine...so I'd better get ready. I'll call you tonight, okay?"

"_Okay._" Jubilee sighs. "_Take care of yourself...and just be strong." _

"Yeah. Bye, Jubes."

"_Bye._"

**...**

Laura enters the office building at five to nine. She is now dressed in a grey-and-pale pink gingham skirt and matching pink blouse she'd purchased yesterday, along with a pair of more modest black pumps on her feet. Uncertain of what to do with her hair, she'd settled on sweeping it back into a ponytail and clipping her long bangs back in a pompadour, as she'd often done for the danger room sessions in school. It looks about right.

She cringes as she sees that the receptionist is the same one from yesterday. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath and heads for the front desk.

The secretary looks up at the sound of her heels on the floor, and her eyes narrow. "The answer is _no._"

"This is going to sound crazy...but I work here now," Laura says, pulling out the keycard given to her by HR the other morning and showing it to the woman.

"Yeah, right." The woman reaches for the phone. "I'm calling security."

"Wait!" Laura says. "Seriously, call Julian. He hired me."

The secretary ignores her.

**...**

"Okay, what the _**HELL **_is going on here?!" Julian snarls as he enters the security room, looking quite irritated. He's wearing a brown suit today, with a tan tie and a beige shirt. "I told Meg I was _not_ to be disturbed today! And-" he breaks off, as he takes in the scene: Laura sitting in the holding cell in the back of the room, her head hung and her hands cuffed together behind her back.

"I'm sorry, sir," the security officer says. He's a tall, heavily-built man with stubby features and heavy blond eyebrows. He has a very beaky nose set between brown eyes, and thick lips. "This lady showed up yesterday claiming to know you. Lisa at the front desk turned her away, but she came back this morning with some bull-shit story about being hired...and she resisted arrest." He pauses. "I decided you should know about this since she might be a threat to your personal safety."

Julian gazes at the girl in the cell, who refuses to meet his eyes.

"I _did_ hire her," he says. "Didn't she have a keycard?"

The security guard looks confused. "Yes, but...Lisa said she wasn't admitted to see you yesterday."

"For god's sakes, don't you guys communicate?" Julian demands. "I explained it to Gary. She's my new lunch and miscellaneous assistant."

"Oh." The officer flushes. "I'm sorry, sir."

"See that it doesn't happen again." He turns to Laura again. "What have you got to say for yourself?" He sounds amused now, the edge gone from his voice.

Laura looks up, and remembers what she's actually supposed to be doing today. She pictures herself telling him at this moment: _I killed your parents. _And she can't. She closes her eyes. "This is really embarrassing," she says.

"Yeah, you made me yell on your first day." He grins. "Let her out."

The officer complies, wielding his keycard and sliding it into the slot beside the keypad to the holding cell. He enters and fumbles in his pocket for the keys to her handcuffs, not meeting her eyes.

Laura allows him to unlock the device, then moves out of the cell.

"Lunch better be spectacular," Julian comments.

"Shut up," she mumbles. They exit the security room.

"Did HR give you an office?" he asks.

"Um, no." Laura pauses. It's easier to speak when they're walking and she doesn't have to look him in the eye. "There isn't really a position called _Lunch and miscellaneous assistant, _is there? I mean-did you just make that up?"

"I thought you'd find 'lunch girl' a little degrading." He grins. "Everyone needs a purpose, you know? Although, I guess _personal entertainer _would also have worked."

Laura wrinkles her nose.

"There's an empty office at the end of my hallway," he says. "I'll have you set up in there...and maybe I'll have them find some other stuff to keep you busy. I feel like it would be irresponsible to leave you with free time, seeing as you love getting into trouble."

"I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" she asks.

"Not really." They reach the elevator, and he presses the _Up _button. "Do you _want_ to hear the end of it?"

"Um, no." Laura realizes he's looking at her again, and she flushes and lowers her eyes. Jubilee's words ring in her ears: _third-degree asshole. _"Oh, god. There's something I need to tell you."

Julian's amused look fades slightly. "Is it serious?" he asks.

"Kind of." She closes her eyes. "I-you're not going to like me very much when I-"

_Ding!_

They both look to the side as the elevator opens-and as a short, older man peers out. The first thing Laura notices is his long, almost white beard. The second thing she notices is that he's bald. "I was just looking for you, sir!" he says.

Julian enters the elevator, and Laura follows, after a moment. "What's up?" he asks.

"Meg was in a meeting with the HR department this morning, and she began to experience pain. She was taken to the hospital. No word yet."

"Oh, god." Julian looks alarmed. "Is she okay? Is the baby-"

"We don't know." The man frowns. "I think she'll need a few days off, at least. She really shouldn't be working anyway."

"Maybe I'll send her on maternity leave a bit early." Julian pauses. "By the way, this is Laura. She's new here. Figured I'd better start spreading the word so no one else calls security on her."

Laura flushes.

"I'm John," the older man says, reaching out and shaking her hand. "I work in HR, one of the senior directors. Pleased to meet you."

"Um, hi," Laura says.

The elevator reaches the top floor, and all but the older man exit. The doors close again, and Julian turns to her. "So, what was your first impression of him?" he asks suddenly.

She blinks. "Honestly?"

He nods.

"I think he could achieve a pretty impressive comb over with his beard," Laura says.

"I _knew_ I wasn't the only one who thought that!" He grins. "I call him Dumbledore in my head. But anyway, what were you going to say to me down there?"

"Oh, um-" Laura feels slightly nauseous as she remembers.

"Wait a minute. I just got an idea." He pauses. "How are you at answering phones and scheduling stuff?"

She hesitates. "...I know how to _use_ a phone," she says cautiously. "And I can tell time."

"Awesome. Want to be my Personal Assistant for a while? Just until Meg is back on her feet."

"Uh," Laura says. Again, this is hardly going as planned. Julian looks hopeful, though, and is expecting an answer. "...I guess I could try," she says.

He looks pleased, and pats her on the shoulder. "Thanks...and sorry about interrupting you. What were you going to say?"

"Um." Laura blinks at his touch. "It can wait."

"Okay," he says easily. "Here, I'll show you Meg's office, and-I'm no expert-but I think I know how to run the outlook program for planning stuff. We can look at the plan for the next few days so you know when I'm too busy to come pull you out of jail."

"Shut _up!_" Laura groans.

He grins. They head toward the hallway, and he stops at the office next door to his, and opens the door. She follows him inside, and is surprised to see that it is almost exactly like his, only a bit smaller.

"Meg usually works off a tablet, but she updates the PC on a weekly basis. Hopefully she did that recently." He turns the computer on. Silence, for a moment, as he waits for it to boot.

"Uh, when do you want lunch?" Laura asks.

"Noon is fine." He glances at her. "Get something for yourself, too. We can eat in my office."

She hesitates. "I don't have enough money," she admits. The outfit she now wore had cost the rest of her cash. Logan was paying for her hotel bill, but hadn't given her anything beyond that, due to the school being extremely tight in finances this year.

"Did they not give you a card?" he asks.

Slowly, Laura shakes her head.

"I seem to have hired a bunch of incompetent _fucks!" _he fumes. "I really need to go on a witch-hunt in here. I do that every few months, to keep people on their toes."

"Oh." She pauses. "Please don't fire anyone because of me."

"They're a liability to the company when they don't follow rules. And when things happen that personally effect _me, _I get annoyed." He pulls out his wallet, selects a card and passes it to her.

Laura stares at him uncertainly.

"Take it," he says, sounding impatient.

"But-" she hesitates, then accepts it: a platinum MasterCard, with golden raised words stating in capital letters: 'Keller Inc.', and a line below it, his name.

"Just no surprise Porsches, okay?" he says, grinning.

Laura nods, and slips the card into her shirt pocket. She sees his eyes follow her fingers, linger for a moment, and then he looks down at the screen quickly. She raises her eyebrows, fairly certain that he had been checking her out.

He gestures for her to move closer, and she does, barely daring to breathe.

"You ever used Outlook before?" he asks.

"What is it?" she counters, now standing very close to him. She can hear his heartbeat and sense the movement he makes while breathing, and she's worried she won't hear a single thing he says.

He grins. "Okay. See this button?" he points with the cursor at the icon of a sheet of paper with a check-mark in front of it. She nods. "Click it and..."

**...**

Laura is sitting alone now, in front of the desk, watching the time pass. She still has Julian's schedule in front of her, and she finds it odd that she's in a position of power that many women with crushes would probably kill for: the knowledge of where he will be-and what he will be doing and who he will be seeing-almost every minute of the day. Except for after five o' clock. The schedule abruptly ends there, since that's when he's supposed to go home.

Her eyes focus on this blank space.

Where does he go? What does he do? Does he spend his evenings with anyone? She leans her head against her hand, and scolds herself. _Bad Laura. You're supposed to be apologizing for _KILLING HIS PARENTS_, remember? _Her thoughts are spoken in what suspiciously sounds like Jubilee's voice.

The phone on her desk rings suddenly, and her eyes widen in horror. It rings a second and a third time, and finally she picks it up with a meek expression. "Um, hello?" she says.

_"Hi there," _a man's voice says-a very deep baritone. Laura has heard it before, at the school.

"Tony _Stark?!_" she asks.

"_Uhh-" _the man pauses. "_Meg?" _

"No, Laura Kinney." She pauses. "Wolverine's daughter, remember?"

A moment of silence. _"Why are you answering the Keller line? Wait a minute...Logan can't be _that_ tight on money, can he?" _

"The school is tight, yeah, but no, that's not it." Laura rubs her neck. "It's super complicated. Listen, what did you want? I'm a temp here and I have abso-fuckin-lutely no idea about what I'm doing."

Tony chuckles. "_I need to meet with the Keller kid for lunch on Monday, if that's possible. Funny, both of our assistants are off on the same week." _

"His is pregnant, and there were some complications or something."

"_Ouch. So those two finally got together, huh?" _

Laura freezes, her eyes wide. "Uh-I don't know, sorry. Where they a thing?"

_"You could cut the tension with a knife,_" Tony says easily. "_Listen, sweetheart, I have a meeting in ten, according to my schedule...so I'll have to keep the gossip to a minimum for now. Does he have time at twelve-thirty this Monday?" _

"Give me a minute." Laura scrolls through the schedules, and sees a blank expanse for _Monday, 12:30-2:00. _"You're in luck. Where should he meet you?"

_"The usual place." _

Laura's forehead wrinkles. "And that is...?"

"_Sorry. __Ginza Sushiko. Rodeo Drive." _

"California?" she clarifies. "I want to make sure I'm not booking him for somewhere in Alaska."

Tony laughs again. _"Yes, in Beverley Hills. I can see why he hired you-you have a knack for logical thinking." _

"Well, I _am _Logan's daughter," she points out as she types this booking into Julian's schedule. "He would've killed me if I didn't learn to think on my feet. Survival of the fittest and all that."

"_True." _Tony pauses. "_I've got to go, kid...but it was sure nice chatting." _

"Same here. Take care."

_"You too." Click! _as the phone disconnects. Laura saves the booking, then looks at her door. Should she _tell_ him about this? No-she glances at her clock. She can tell him at lunch...which she should be fetching right now. Sighing, she pushes her chair away from the desk and heads for the door.

**...**

A half hour later, she enters Keller Inc. again, holding a paper bag of food. Lisa the receptionist glares at her with a sour expression.

"_You_ again," she says.

Laura ignores her and heads for the elevator, knowing she does not need to worry about the woman anymore. The secretary has obviously been yelled at, and is looking to transfer the blame. She hears Lisa murmuring 'dumb bitch' under her breath, and instead of going to correct her, waits for her car to arrive.

A few moments and a _ding _later, she steps in, and hits the button for the top floor.

The elevator pauses at the eleventh floor to let in a plain-faced, red-haired woman in a blouse and slacks, and then again at the fifteenth floor to admit a younger man with brown hair, and a somewhat pleasantly composed face. He gives her a smile as he enters, and his brown eyes quite obviously flit downward. "Hiya," he says.

"Hello." Laura looks at her shoes.

"I'm Ed Cullen...from Financial." He extends his hand.

"Laura Kinney," she murmurs uncertainly. "Miscellaneous."

"Eh?" Ed asks, then his eyes widen. "_That_ Laura? I got a head-email this morning. Wow, so you impressed the big guy already?"

Laura's nose wrinkles. "I guess."

"I'd be pretty impressed with you myself," he says, giving her a charming smile. His eyes flit downward again.

She considers her course of action, and decides on saying nothing. The elevator pauses at the 29th floor, and the other lady gets out, then they resume their upward trajectory.

"Say, there's a little get-together happening at a bar downtown tonight...you'll be there, right?" he asks.

The elevator doors open with a _ding! _noise.

"I'd rather lick a toilet plunger. Excuse me." Laura exits the elevator and comes face-to-face with Julian, who is grinning.

"A toilet plunger?" he asks. The doors of the elevator close, and it descends downward again, but Laura isn't really paying attention.

"That wasn't for you," she says.

"It better not have been." Julian looks down at the bag in her hand. "I assume that's food?"

"Yes, sir."

He looks at his watch. "Go hang out in my office. I'll be up in five minutes, just running down to meet someone."

"Okay." Laura watches him as he moves to the elevator, her eyes slipping downward slightly to his behind, nicely displayed by the pants of his suit. She wonders what he would look like without any.

"Try not to get any food on my papers," he says as the elevator door opens.

"Okay," she says again. He turns around, presses the number and then catches her looking at the area his rear had just occupied. She flushes, and he grins, and then the doors close and the car descends.

She is suddenly reminded of Tony's words about his personal assistant, Meg. A little absentmindedly she makes her way to his office and enters.

**...**

She hears the elevator coming up, and his footsteps approaching, and so is prepared for his arrival to his office. The door opens and he heads in. "Sorry. That was more like fifteen minutes."

"It's your lunch," Laura points out.

"I don't like keeping people waiting," he says as he sits behind his desk. He meets her eyes, and she feels a flush cross her face. "So what did you accomplish today?"

"I-I scheduled you an appointment," she offers. Pause. "I hope that was okay."

He grins. "That's what you're supposed to do, yeah. Who's it with?"

Laura closes her eyes. "Tony Stark. For some sushi place in Beverley Hills, for twelve-thirty on Monday."

"Damn...the big shots always call in at the worst times, huh? Sorry. I wouldn't have had you speak with his assistant first off the bat, she's a little uptight."

"Oh, no...it was Tony himself." Laura pauses. "My father and him are friends, so it's not like I've never met him."

Julian raises his eyebrows. "Seriously? You've spoken to Tony Stark before?"

"First time was when I was thirteen," she affirms. "He's a nice guy."

"Brilliant and shrewd, too." Julian pauses. "Who is your father?"

Laura freezes. _Parents_. "Wolverine," she says, knowing this is more likely to be familiar.

"Fucking A," he says, giving her a recalculating look. "That...I didn't expect that. You look too-" now it's his turn to be embarrassed.

"Pretty?" she guesses. "Hairless? _Breasted?_"

"All of those," he says, grinning. His eyes slip a little lower. "So, what did you get me for lunch today? Hopefully it's a re-heatable food."

"Chinese," she says, pulling out the cartons from the bag. "It was steaming hot when they put it in...so I'd imagine it's okay."

"Great."

Laura hands him his carton, and a pair of chopsticks, and they set down to eating.

"So..." she starts, finding it a little easier to talk to him now. A little. "Did you get an update on your _real_ Personal Assistant?" she asks.

"Yeah." Julian swallows. "She's okay...but they say she's been too stressed out, and she almost went into early labor. I'm going to send her on maternity leave earlier than planned."

"Oh." She hesitates. "Is she married?"

"No." He hesitates. "Don't tell her I told you...but I'm surprised. She's quite a catch."

Laura feels a kind of choking feeling, and says nothing.

"How's your boyfriend?" he asks suddenly.

She is startled by the change in topic. "Um, I don't know."

"Haven't called him?" he probes.

"Not since I arrived, no." She pauses. "I think I'm going to break up with him."

"Oh?" He raises one eyebrow.

"It was never that serious...and he couldn't understand why I had to leave the school."

"Neither can I, to be honest. Why did you?" Julian's eyes are fixed on hers, and she feels—again—that odd sensation that he is drawing the truth out of her. Then she _remembers_ the truth-how horrible it is, and how all of this will end if she reveals it to him. She shakes her head slightly, her eyebrows drawing together.

"To see the world," she lies, her voice slightly strained.

"Just another college kid, huh?" he asks.

"You could say that."

A few minutes pass filled with just straight eating. Then Julian puts down his chopsticks, and gives her a very straight look. "Look, we _do _have something to talk about. Something serious."

She eyes him uncertainly, her mouth full of Chow Men. A noodle actually hangs out.

He starts to grin. "You can swallow, if you'd like."

Laura force-swallows the entire portion, and has to take a sip from her drink before she can stop blinking in pain. "Go for it," she gasps.

Julian opens his mouth to speak, and the phone rings. He rolls his eyes, picks it up and answers: "Keller."

_"Hi, Boss-man." _A woman's voice. With her finely-tuned hearing, Laura can decipher what she is saying as clearly as if they are in the same room.

"Meg! Are you okay? Is the baby-" Laura winces at the concern in his voice.

_"It's all good, but like you may have heard...I won't be in for a while." _

"Yeah, anything for you. I just want you to be okay. You're the most important person here, you know?"

_"I know._"

Laura feels very awkward, and stabs at her food a little too viciously-her chopsticks go through the Styrofoam box, and a mass of Chow Men explodes onto her lap. "_**SHIT!**_" she explodes.

Julian glances at her, and begins to grin.

_"What the hell was that?" _Meg asks, on the other end.

"My temp assistant, trying to master the art of eating...and failing."

_"Oh." _Meg pauses. "_Wait a minute-_what_ temp?! I've been out one day and you get a replacement for me?!" _

"I'll tell you all about her later."

_"Is she hot?" _Meg asks.

"No-I know what you're thinking. The answer is _no._ Just-I'll call you back later, okay? We're eating lunch, and apparently she needs help."

_"She can use my office if she wants,_" Meg adds.

"Okay. I'll let her know. Take care."

_"Later._"

He hangs up the phone and turns his eyes back to Laura, who is attempting to clean up the mess. Rice has joined the noodles, along with a piece of wilted bok choi and a few nuggets of sauce-laden meat.

"You're like a five year old," he says in wonder.

Laura feels like crying. Instead she grabs the bag from the food rather violently and holds it under the hem of her skirt. Food rolls off, making _plop plop _noises into the bag.

"Hey-I wasn't being mean," he says.

She doesn't answer.

"Laura, I'm sorry." He gazes up at her. "I was joking."

"Tell that to your _real_ assistant," she says. She grabs her almost empty container of food and stuffs that in too, then heads to the door and throws the bag into the trashcan nearby. She yanks open his door and heads into the hallway, where the heel of her shoe suddenly breaks (possibly due to the fact that she is stomping her feet) and she is deposited into a sprawled heap on the carpet.

"Laura-" he appears at the door and takes the scene in. "Wow."

She sits very still and looks down the hallway toward the elevator, trying to fight the burning in her eyes. She almost succeeds.

"Laura..." he kneels down beside her. "I was just fooling around."

She refuses to answer him.

"I'm serious. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Silence.

"Why are you sitting on the ground?" he asks finally.

"My heel broke," she says, in a small voice.

He pauses, and she hears him trying not to laugh. _At her expense, again. _She reaches forward and removes one heel, then the other, and stands up, bare footed.

"Please, come back to my office. I think I can fix it."

"No." She pauses. "Can I go home?"

"No." He runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not sure why you're so upset. I-I don't think what I did was _that_ bad."

"You're a piece of _shit!_" she snaps, her temper getting the better of her. A trait that-unfortunately-survived the cloning process. "I mean, my god. Could you have possibly painted a worse picture of me to your-assistant?!"

Julian raises his eyebrows. "I'm confused," he says finally. "I really didn't mean to offend you. I thought-well, I thought we were kind of hitting it off. I had no idea you were that touchy."

"Yeah, well, you don't _know_ me," Laura says, her nose wrinkled, but already the flare of her temper is starting to die down into embers. She kicks the ground.

"Give me that," he says, reaching out for her shoe. She lets him take it, and watches as he turns it over in his hands. "I have superglue in a drawer somewhere. Give me a sec." He disappears, and she listens as he walks to his desk, sits down and begins rummaging in drawers. Then there is a slight vibration noise-energy-and he gets up again.

"Here...hold the heel against the rest for like a minute, that should keep it together," he says as he hands the shoe back. "Seriously, Laura, I didn't mean to piss you off, and I'm sorry. If you don't want me to tease you, I won't."

She hesitates. "Well..." and wrinkles her nose again. "Stop putting me in corners," she says.

He grins, then glances at his watch. "Crap. I've got to get back to work...can we continue this conversation later?"

"Okay," Laura says.

"Five sound okay?"

"Huh?" she raises her eyebrows.

Julian leans on the doorframe. "We could go out for drinks. Or something. Wait, are you old enough to drink?"

"Of course," Laura lies. She pauses. "Are you asking me out?"

He grins again. "If I say yes, will you tell me you'd rather lick a toilet plunger?"

"Oh, shut up." Laura finally smiles. "Okay."

"Good." He pauses. "See you later, then."

"Later," Laura says. He closes his door and she hears him move to his desk again, but he doesn't sit down for a while. She stands in the hallway and examines the heel of her shoe. It is flawless once again.

_Continue this conversation later. _What does he want to say to her?

And what had he been about to say before Meg called?

Laura returns to her temporary office and settles herself behind the desk, to wait for five o' clock.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: All I can say to the questions is...read and see! Thanks so much for the RnR and hope you keep enjoying! ^-^**

* * *

**Chapter 4  
**

* * *

Laura awakens with a start, to realize she's not alone in the room. She looks up slowly and realizes Julian is standing in front of the desk, his arms folded.

"Umm..." she says, blinking.

"You have a post-it stuck to your forehead," he comments.

She scratches at her forehead and removes a note that says _VS-0006 XX in green, 34C_. She suddenly remembers what it's for and tucks it into her breast pocket, hoping he hasn't figured out that she's been online shopping. "I swear, I haven't been asleep for long." She glances at the clock, and starts when she sees that it is now six-thirty. This is surprising, seeing as it had been four something just a few minutes ago.

"I'm not judging," he says. "I lost track of time myself. Should we go?"

"Um," Laura says. "Yeah, okay." She gets up from her desk slowly, pausing to stretch in a cat-like fashion.

"I'll need to stop by my place and change," he says as they head for the elevator. "You want to do the same?"

"My hotel is about three blocks away," she says in agreement. "The Holiday Inn."

"You're staying in a hotel?" he asks, surprised.

"I just flew in...let's see...three days ago, now," Laura says. "I thought I should probably wait to get paid before I get an apartment." She pauses. "And seeing as I don't have much of a credit rating." She decides not to mention that she doesn't plan to stay long, anyway.

"I can help you," he says. "Get you an apartment with the company's credit...or mine."

"Uh-that's okay." Laura rubs her arm. "Thanks, though. You're really...nice."

They stop, and Julian presses the button for the elevator, then looks at her oddly. "_Nice_ isn't usually a word people use to describe me. It wouldn't take any personal effort on my part. You couldn't even hurt my credit if you tried, with something as small as an apartment."

"Oh." Laura doesn't know what to say.

_Ding! _as the elevator doors open. They enter.

"Let me know if you change your mind," he says.

"I will." Laura looks down, and bites her lip. It's just hit her: tonight is going to be the definable end of any kind of relationship that might have been developing between them. Tonight, he will not only fire her, but he will also call the police.

_You owe it to him, _her conscience whispers. The conscience that she has spent the last ten years nurturing. That same conscience that is the reason she will be brave and sacrifice a great opportunity, and the potential for—well, she's not sure what it is yet, but whatever it is…

It would be very, very good.

"So...what's it like, being a mutant?" he asks suddenly, his hands in his pockets.

The gentle _whirr _of the elevator descending fills her ears, the sound of his heart beating slightly faster, like he's anxious about her response, the scent of fear and of his regular scent, under cologne, more prominent than the almost repulsive blend of other, older scents in the elevator...

"Overwhelming," she says, after a few moments. "But you learn to manage."

"Do you get a lot of...you know...prejudice?" he asks.

"Would you suspect me of being one?" she counters.

He grins. "True. Just...curious, I guess."

Laura raises her eyebrows, but says nothing. He'll know that she's aware of his secret soon enough. After a moment, she decides that they will finally have the conversation at his apartment. She can collect her back pack from the hotel first, and therefore be ready to run when he calls the authorities like he no doubt will do. Confessing doesn't mean that she intends to do jail time.

She's much more useful to society outside of prison.

...

She emerges from the hotel with her back pack, and bites her lip as she spots Julian leaning against the hood of his black Bugatti Veyron, scrolling through something on his phone. She pictures for a moment the possibility of perhaps not telling him the truth. Would they become more than friends? Her experiences with Mark and then Josh at the school suggest to her that _yes, _there is not only a possibility, but a probability. Perhaps not immediately...but never, if she tells him the four fatal words.

_I killed your parents._

Then there's the option of just leaving, without explanation. Yes, this is a possibility too...but the coward's way out. Running would only cause him more distress, since he'll wonder what he did to chase her away. The concern he'd expressed earlier today was proof that it would probably bother him if she disappeared without a trace.

That leaves...telling him.

Laura sighs and shoulders her back pack, approaches the car. Julian looks up. "Ten minutes, my ass," he says, but the words are said much more softly than he'd first intended them, as he admires her new appearance: hair flowing around her shoulders, a black, corset-style top, a tight black skirt, and a bright red jacket. To match her red stilettos. And her bright red lipstick.

There is a lot of red, both in her outfit and-gradually-in his face.

"Sorry," she says. "I needed to grab some stuff." She re-shoulders her back pack.

Julian raises his eyebrows. "It's a night of drinks...not an expedition."

"You never know...in my experience, at least," she says.

He grins. "Fair enough. Well...then...you can't complain about how long _I_ take then, okay?"

"Okay," she agrees.

...

Laura thinks about how to follow him to his apartment without it seeming awkward, but she needn't have worried, since he suggests she come up and have a drink while he changes.

The building is a very impressive red-brick establishment, with a front door gate, and a guardsman who nods his head to Julian and opens the door for them. She follows him into another elevator, and after a short ride to the top of the building, they get out into a small hallway-with only one door at the end.

"This whole _floor_ is yours?" Laura asks, surprised.

Julian grins as he searches for the keys in his pocket. "Yup." He finds them and opens the door, made of a solid, shiny oak. It swings smoothly on well-oiled joints, revealing an expanse of polished hardwood floor. The first thing Laura can see in this space is a small kitchen, with marble countertops and expensive stainless steel appliances. On the other side is a kitchen island, with a matching marble table surface, and a series of hooks bearing pots and pans hanging above. There is a row of barstools on one side.

"Your coat?" he asks.

"Oh-that's okay." Laura enters the space and looks around more fully. Beyond the island is a black leather sofa, facing a brick fireplace. On the side is an enormous window showing a nice view of the city, sparkling with lights now that it is dark.

"Your place is beautiful," she says.

"Thanks," he says, grinning. "Make yourself at home." He disappears down a hallway to the side and a few moments later she hears the sounds of fabric rustling. Laura bites her lip, wondering what he would do if she followed him. Scratch that-she _knows_ what would happen. And it's not happening.

She heads over to the island and perches on a barstool, leaning her back pack against the leg. A few minutes pass, in which she rehearses what she will say. _This is a really difficult topic for me to approach, but here goes. I'm not a normal person. I'm not the daughter of the world's most dangerous man-I'm his clone, as impossible as that sounds. What I was designed to do is kill people...and that is all my life would have been, if you hadn't have-_

Her thoughts break off, as Julian reappears, pulling on a light blue t-shirt. She catches a glimpse of his abdomen over his jeans, and is surprised to see that he is in shape. Really and actually in shape. She realizes her mouth is hanging open. She shuts it quickly.

"Okay," he says, apparently oblivious to her reaction.

Laura closes her eyes, frustrated with herself. "Um-we need to have that talk."

"Sure." He pulls up a stool beside her and sits down, then gives her a serious look. "You have my undivided attention."

She keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see his friendly look turning into hate and repulsion. "Okay. This is really, _really_ difficult to bring up. And you're not going to be my friend afterward...and maybe I should start off with the hard part, and then explain why…if you'll let me."

He raises one eyebrow, but nods. "Okay."

Laura takes a deep breath. "I-"

Julian's phone starts ringing. "Damn it," he says, pulling it out of his jeans pocket and looking at the number. "Do you mind-"

"No, go ahead," she replies quickly. _Saved by the bell, again. _

He hits _Answer _and holds the phone to his ear. "Hi mom," he says.

Laura breaks out into a cold sweat. _Mom? _But-

_"How's it going, Julian?" _a woman's voice says. An unfamiliar woman's voice-full of warmth and humor. Not Elizabeth Keller's cold, somewhat austere voice as she'd heard it in the L.A. Conference Center that day, the voice that had commented on her-disguised as a cripple-with criticism.

"Fine." He pauses. "Now's not the best time. I have company."

_"Are you being careful?" _the woman asks.

"Jeez. I just have a friend over."

_"Don't avoid the question. I know you too well." _

"Whatever."

Pause.

_"Are you coming for dinner next Saturday?" _the woman asks. "_I'm making lasagna, and apple pie." _

_"_Of course," he says. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Can I call you back tomorrow?"

"_Is she staying the night?" _She guesses.

Laura raises her eyebrow.

He flushes. "No, of course not. I'll call in the morning."

"_I'll be waiting._"

"Bye, mom." He presses _End _and then turns off his phone and lays it on the counter. "There. _Now_ you have my undivided attention."

"That was your _mother?_" Laura asks.

"Yeah." He pauses. "She calls every week to check up on me and make sure I'm eating properly, you know. I guess she's not used to the idea of me being independent."

She hesitates. "And...do you have a father?"

"Doesn't everyone?" he asks, grinning.

Laura blinks. "I meant-never mind." She pauses, and grapples with herself. "This is really-I don't even know how to start. It's so fucked up." She rubs her face with her hands, and hears him move. A moment later, his hand rests on her shoulder.

"If it's hard-don't. We can talk about it later," he says gently. "Hard stuff is always easier with alcohol."

She looks through her fingers. "Okay," she says.

...

Two hours later, Laura's sitting at their table in the bar, alone. She fingers a cocktail napkin as she watches the TV-or pretends to. In actuality, her ears are tuned on the conversation occurring in a booth several yards away…between Julian and one of the girls who had caught him on his way back from the washroom. There is some serious flirting going on. The girl is writing down her number for him right now.

Laura looks at her empty glass of Bloody Mary, and purses her lips. She is debating her options. At this precise moment, just walking away without a care in the world seems appealing. Fuck the whole road-to-redemption thing-just _fuck _it. She has her pride to consider, and being sidelined like this is going to make genuine apology a little difficult. It might have something to do with being drunk, too, as Julian had taken the bartender aside at one point, and after that the alcohol had flowed like water for her.

The server appears briefly to put down another shot in front of her-a Washington Apple Shot. "Another cocktail, madame?" he asks as he picks up the empty Bloody Mary glass.

"Please," Laura says.

She downs the shot and closes her eyes. A moment later _he's_ back, slipping into his chair and giving her an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. There was a big line-up."

"For the urinals?" Laura asks, her nose wrinkled.

Julian pauses, giving her a very innocent look. She notices his eyes look very vividly blue when he does this, and she feels even more annoyed.

"I _heard_ you...and that other girl," she says, her upper lip curling. "And it makes me wonder, why the _fuck_ did you bring me?" She pronounces the curse word very carefully and deliberately.

"We were going to talk," he says. "I didn't think-"

"You don't do much of _that_, do you?" Laura demands.

"Excuse me?" He stares at her.

"Thinking." She returns his look with what she thinks is one of cool disdain, but when she feels herself wobble, she begins to doubt this. "You bring me to this-_this_-" she gestures around herself, "-get me drunk, and then try to score on another woman. That's, like, third-degree _asshole_ right there."

"Oh really?" Julian looks amused. "So you'd like it better if I took advantage of you."

She takes the shot of whiskey, and makes a face."Well-_duh,_" she says. "Are you a complete _idiot?_"

"I'm not sure," he says, calmly. "I do seem to remember hiring you the other day."

"For your miscellaneous assississ-assissss-assistant," Laura says. "That position's as mythical as a unicorn."

Julian grins.

"And don't even _try_ policy on me!" she snaps, before he can speak. "I happen to know you've been fucking the girl in my shoes before me." She pauses, trying to figure out what she's just said, then covers her mouth. "I-"

He raises his eyebrows.

Laura leans over the table. "Tony Stark told me," she whispers, somewhat dramatically. "He said it was about time you two got down to...screwing."

"He did?" Julian asks, looking amused again.

"He said you could cut the tension with a _knife!" _She picks up the knife from her set of cutlery and waves it in the air for emphasis.

"I see," he replies.

Laura pauses, and lets the knife drop from her fingers. It hits the table with a dull clatter. "You should just man up and _marry _her already."

Julian raises his eyebrows, yet again. "I should?"

"Well, she's obviously having your _baby_!" she snaps. "I didn't think anyone could _be_ such a dirtbag till you came along and showed me the light. Me killing your parents is just _nothing_ compared to that." She pauses. "Oop..." She claps her hand over her mouth again, her eyes wide. The motion makes her sway in her seat.

The server returns and places her new drink in front of her. "Anything for you, sir?" he asks Julian, whose face is carefully neutral.

"Just a light beer," he says. "I'm driving."

"Right away, sir," the man says, writing it down and heading back to the bar.

"Oh my god." Laura stares at the table. "This is so not how-how I was going to-" she looks up at Julian with pleading eyes. "Can you just forget this?"

"Okay," he says.

"Thanks." She notices her new drink, and sets to work.

...

The next morning, Laura's eyes snap open to an unfamiliar ceiling.

A _very _unfamiliar ceiling.

Her eyebrows gather together, and she rolls over in bed, and encounters...

More bed. Covered in very soft, dark red sheets. She sits upright and looks under the comforter-down, by the feel of it-and is relieved to see that she is still fully clothed. After a moment she lowers the blanket and looks around the room.

Definitely unfamiliar. In one corner of the room is what looks like a pine dresser, and in the other corner is a closet. The room strikes her as being very bare, very Spartan. The room of someone who does not spend much time in it.

She hears noises coming from the previously unnoticed hallway, and she slips out of the bed and moves toward it. Her feet-which are bare-feel the coolness of a hardwood floor.

_Hardwood floors. _

"Shit," she murmurs. She realizes she has to pee like crazy and looks around the room. There-a door. She enters the bathroom and relieves herself, then moves to wash her hands. As she does this, she examines the few items on the bathroom counter with uncertainty. A bottle of Armani cologne, a toothbrush in a silver holder, a tube of Crest toothpaste. No razor.

The bathroom itself is very ritzy-black-and-gray marble floors and countertops, and what looks like a Jacuzzi tub in one corner, and a shower stall in the other. The toilet seems to be made of black marble. She finishes washing her hands and heads toward the hallway again, her nose filled with an aroma she hadn't paid attention to before: bacon, and eggs.

She emerges into the kitchen area and sees that Julian is cooking, his expression serious and his eyes glowing with bright green light. He's moving the eggs around…with his mind.

"Um, hi," she says.

He stops immediately—his eyes turning back to normal color—and looks up. "You're up," he says, without smiling.

Laura feels awkward, and leans against the edge of the wall beside the fridge. "I don't remember what I did last night," she says. "Was I-did I do anything stupid?"

He shrugs. "Can't say I wouldn't have done the same," he says.

"Oh." She pauses. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset." He reaches into a drawer and produces a spatula. "I _am_ curious, though-all other things aside-how did you come to the conclusion that I don't give a shit about my own policy?"

"Huh?" Laura presses her cheek against the wall.

"You accused me of knocking up an employee," he says, glaring at her.

She blinks, then feels a surge of relief. _She didn't tell him about his parents. _"I-well-look, I _know_ you didn't, okay? "

"Well, why the heck would you say that then?" Julian raises one eyebrow expectantly.

"Um..." Laura rubs her neck. "Well, I heard...things. And that conversation you had with, um, Meg-"

His eyes narrow. "I don't recall saying anything remotely incriminating."

She hesitates.

"You can hear the other end, can't you?" he guesses.

Slowly, she nods.

"That's pretty rude." Julian turns back to cooking, and she bites her lip. "It's not something I can help, you know," she says. "I can't really plug my ears...that won't even work. I'd have had to leave the room."

"Then you should have." He stabs at the eggs viciously with the spatula.

"I'm sorry," Laura says again, but her nose wrinkles. Then she sees the clock on the wall opposite-_ten after nine. _She blinks, then pulls away from the wall. "Wait-shit, I'm _late for work!"_

The corners of Julian's mouth twitch, like he's fighting a grin. "I'm the person you'd be in trouble with," he says.

Laura freezes. "Am I in trouble?"

He gives up and does smile, slightly. "It's Saturday, so not really."

"Oh." She relaxes against the wall again, then frowns. "Wait a minute-I was here all night?"

"Yep." He begins to shovel eggs out of the pan onto a plate.

"Where did _you_ sleep?" she asks.

"On the sofa." He turns around and places one egg, toast and bacon-laden plate onto the island. "There you go."

Laura feels stupid. "You made me breakfast?"

"Yep." He picks up a second plate and begins to add eggs.

"...why?" she asks.

"Because my mom taught me how to be a host, I guess." He turns off the stove and moves around the island, carrying his plate.

"Oh." Laura hesitates, then approaches the island and looks at the food. She feels a wave of guilt pass over her. Whatever had happened last night, she is sure she didn't shine too brightly.

"Oops, cutlery." He returns to the kitchen, brings out a set of silverware, and places them on the island.

Their eyes meet, for a moment.

"I'm so, so sorry," Laura says, very sincerely. "I didn't mean any of it."

"You did." He pauses. "Drunks tend to be the most honest people I know."

She bites her lip. "Okay, let me rephrase. I might have _felt_ some of that-but usually my brain helps me sort out what's realistic and what's pure fantasy. I never meant to hurt your feelings, or to insult you."

"I didn't think that you did." He moves around the island and sits back down. After a moment of hesitation she joins him, and pulls up her plate.

"Can I make it up to you?" she asks.

"There's nothing to make up, Laura." He doesn't look at her. "We're fine."

They eat breakfast in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5  
**

* * *

"So, do you want to go look at apartments today?" Julian asks suddenly.

Laura almost chokes on her last forkful of eggs. "W-what?"

"We already discussed this." He frowns. "You can't live in a hotel."

"I'll take care of that when I get my first paycheck," she says. "I don't-"

"I'll pay the deposit," he says firmly.

"No!" she protests.

"Let me guess...you don't think you'll be in L.A. that long." He levels his very direct gaze on her, and she feels like she's shrinking. "Be honest. You came here with a job already...and that's all you care about accomplishing. You're not interested in branching out, in trying new things."

Laura stares at him. She doesn't know what to say, and the way he's looking at her is very disconcerting. Displeasure, disappointment, disapproval…_a whole lot of words starting with 'dis', _she thinks, swallowing nervously and feeling herself start to perspire.

"I'll be right back," he announces, sliding off his stool suddenly and heading for the hallway.

She rubs her face in her palms, hoping this is all a bad dream but knowing it isn't. Within a few moments he is back, sliding onto his seat, and—with a _smack!—_he lays down a Manila folder on the countertop in front of her.

The folder has a white label, which reads _Weapon X: cloning division. _

Laura feels the blood drain from her face, and her heart crawl up her throat. She opens and closes her lips silently, her eyes fixed on the words.

"I hated you, for the first four or so years," Julian says, his voice slightly sharper than before. "Oh yeah...I _know_ who you are. I've known since I looked up and saw your eyes, in my office." His voice lowers. "You don't forget a pair of eyes like yours, not _ever. _I've dreamed about them every night since." Pause. "I sometimes think that's why my energy signature is green."

Her hands begin to tremble, as does her mouth. She continues to look at him in uncertainty.

"I never forgot that moment," he continues. "After you destroyed practically everyone in my life. And then you looked at me, and I saw your eyes. They were so…empty." He leans forward. "And you looked right the fuck through me. I've never been so scared out of my wits."

She says nothing.

His lip curls slightly. "Whatever you found in me...it was enough. You decided to let me live." He pauses. "I've been wondering for a long time what that was."

Laura closes her eyes and thinks of that moment, thinks of the puppy in her hands, trying to lick her fingertips in all its puppy-innocence as she tried to discern—through tear-blinded eyes—the quickest and most merciful way to kill it.

Her eyebrows draw together. In a strained voice, she whispers that one word: "Innocence."

Julian leans back. "That's it?"

Slowly, she nods.

He runs a hand through his hair, then grins at himself. She hears his movements and looks at him, puzzled. Why would he smile at this?

"I've been racking my brain for years to see what you saw," he says in a flat tone. "Somehow, I got this feeling that I was special...that you judged me, and thought I deserved to live."

"No one _deserves_ to live," Laura says. "But, yes, some deserve it less than others."

He raises his eyebrows. "And my parents?"

Here it is.

"I didn't judge anyone," she says softly. "I did as I was ordered…by the people who made me."

Julian gives her no reaction.

"If you've read this..." she lays her fingertips on the file, flips open the front cover, and is confronted by a picture of herself-at seven years old-hugging her knees to her chest. She is wearing a thin, pink cotton shift, and is seated in the corner of a tile cell, her head bowed. There is no expression on her face. "Oh my god," she says softly. "Where did you get-"

"My father," he says, his voice low.

Laura pauses. She flips over the picture, and is confronted with a typed report.

_**SECTOR REPORT BRIEF: Weapon X, Clone division**_

_February 10, 1990  
Att: Chief of the Board of Directors_

Partial success achieved in cloning project. Dr. Kinney (chief geneticist) informed myself that a male clone would result in a 10 year delay in project, then presented the alternative female clone, and revealed an embryo to already be in existence. Surrogate was found, and embryo was successfully brought to term. Clone will subsequently be referred to as X-23, as this was the 23rd attempt made to produce a X-chromosome clone of subject Weapon X.

X-23 is 1 year, 2 months at the date of this report. Subject displays above-normal intelligence, aptitude for learning, and possesses claws, two in each hand, one in each foot. Healing factor not yet active. Growing at slightly accelerated rate, partially due to lab efforts (heated containment cell). X-23 was separated from surrogate at birth and is receiving the best early education available, as laid out in the Cloning Action Plan.

_Correspondence to continue._

_Regards,_

Dr. Martin Sutter  
Director of Operations

Laura looks up at the young man beside her. "Your...your father?" she asks.

Julian leans back on his stool. "When I was fourteen years old and deciding what to do with my life, I came across these papers in the stuff I had inherited from my father." He frowns. "His personal possessions. There were lots more papers-I have them in a file box." He closes his eyes. "Over the years, I put it all together. My father was running Weapon X, in secret, with the dividends of his company. He was going to put it fully to action when he was President."

Her eyes are full of realization. "An unkillable, undefeatable assassin...separate from the military...at his command."

"World domination," Julian says, his face dark. "But that wasn't going to happen...because guess who Sutter designated as your first target?"

"To get control of the project." Laura leans her head on her hand.

"To get control of _you_." He gazes at her. "A lot of people have wanted you...Laura...including me. But at that part, I couldn't decide if I wanted you destroyed or apologized to. I thought about it, for a _long_ time."

Laura looks at him with the first inklings of fear. It had never occurred to her that Julian might want to destroy her…and that—given the amount of information and resources that he has at his disposal—he could actually achieve it.

He sees this, shakes his head. "No. Laura, I wouldn't. You can't be held responsible for anything you did before you left the program…or afterwards, either, for that matter." He leans forward again. "And then I had to consider what you did for _me, _beyond sparing my life-against everything you had ever been conditioned to do."

Laura feels lost, and apparently this shows.

"I know what they did to you in there," he says, his voice full of loathing. "Because that's what's in the big file box I told you about. Copies on every process you were subjected to. Lab reports…describing torture sessions in objective terms." He hesitates. "I know about the trigger scent, too."

She drops her eyes, her eyebrows drawing together. Her deepest, darkest secret. Not even Jubilee knows about the trigger scent.

"It took me even longer to understand what you did for me...up to this point, in fact." He looks down too. "Something that's hard to admit. It's the most horrible thing I could say. But I realized that you _saved_ me, when you killed my parents."

Laura blinks, and looks at him again, in confusion.

"They were monsters," he says calmly. "I can't imagine what would have happened to me had you not done what...you were ordered to do. I think I'd rather be dead than live the life I had coming."

"I don't understand," she says.

Julian's eyes flash with green light. "You think I'd want to be raised by the man who could dream up a project as sick as _this? _Who could have breakfast at the table with mom and me, and ask me if I'm doing my homework…when he's having a little girl water-dunked so she'll learn to kill people better?"

Laura doesn't speak.

"I was wrong. You weren't the empty one. _He _was. And my mother, too." He grits his teeth. "I found letters to her, from Dr. Kinney."

"_My_ mother," she says, before she can stop herself.

"Yeah, I figured that out. Dr. Kinney figured it out, somehow, who the head of the operation was...and she begged my mom to make my dad reconsider. She sent pictures of you…and stories. My mom had a file, too. I suspect she was planning to tell my father that Dr. Kinney wanted to betray the operation."

Laura blinks, hard.

"But I didn't get raised by those people," Julian says. "After what happened...I went into police custody. They thought you would be after me. After a while I was assigned foster parents, and the majority of my money was sealed away in a trust fund. A CEO for the company was elected as a placeholder for me, until I would 'come of age'." He pauses. "My new parents...they loved me, and encouraged me in a way that mine had never done. My real dad treated me like a piece of shit on his shoe...and my foster one played baseball with me, and taught me how to sail. My real mom saw me only at dinnertime, when the servants called us together...and my foster mother _made_ dinner, and tucked me in at night. After a while, I started to mix up who was real, you know?"

She nods, slightly.

"When I finished reading through the box of papers...Laura, I've never wanted to do anything so badly. I started working part-time at the company when I was sixteen, and going to school at the same time. I worked _so _hard...and when I turned nineteen and graduated with my Bachelor's...I seized control of the company. And you can guess why."

"Because no one shut down the Weapon X program," Laura says, in horror.

"Yep." Julian rubs the side of his face. "I've been working on that for the past couple of years. I got myself in control of the board of chairmen, and I've been trying to figure out which guy runs the weapon x program…because my father didn't leave records for _everything, _of course. He made sure there was no other ways to directly trace himself to the project…no witnesses, no name. So far, I haven't been successful."

They stare at each other in silence, for several minutes.

"So _that's_ why you weren't so overwhelmed by my first introduction," Laura says finally.

"Pretty much." He pauses. "I thought it might be you when the receptionist said your name...but I knew that if it was _really_ you, getting upstairs wouldn't be an issue. But I have to ask...why were you so tongue-tied? I mean, I didn't expect it to be easy for you to confront me, but-"

"Isn't it obvious?" She asks, embarrassed and terrified that she will have to define her school-girl-esque crush on him in words.

"Well…" Julian hesitates, and for once seems uncertain. "I kind of put it down to you feeling some kind of obligation about—well…you know. Everything."

Laura shakes her head. "It's not. If all of this hadn't been hanging in the air..." she trails off, her eyes saying the rest for her.

He leans forward. "And now?" he asks. "Now that you know _I'm _part of the reason you were tortured for half of your life?"

She considers this. "No. You're the reason I _wasn't _tortured for half of my life." She pauses. "Actually, it's because of you that it wasn't all of it. You didn't let me get away. When Captain America took me away…he knew that I needed help...and took me to the one person who _could_ do that."

"Wolverine," Julian says thoughtfully.

She nods.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Finally Laura looks at the file again, looks at the photo of herself as a little girl. Her expression hardens. "I guess we were both victims," she says, her voice low.

"I'll say." He runs a hand through his hair again, and their eyes meet. For a few moments, Laura tries to make herself look away, because she can't do that to him. He's obviously confused, and she…what is she? She doesn't realize that she's asked this aloud until he answers.

"The most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he says seriously.

She looks down. "We can't," she murmurs. "I can't do that to you."

"Can't do what?" he asks insistently. "Laura—" he reaches out and cups her chin with his fingers, and she stiffens. He's never touched her before, not like this, and it feels like her body has been waiting for it for a very long time. She looks up and sees that he senses it too, and even though it's wrong and they shouldn't, they both smile slowly.

It's hard to tell who makes the first move. Laura closes her eyes and runs her hands all over his body, feeling a strange sense of floating as he kisses her long and hard. _This can't be real, _she thinks, from somewhere far away. Soon afterward he picks her up, carries her down the hallway and shuts the door softly behind them.

**...**

"So...how about that apartment?" he asks later. He's lying in bed, on the previously unoccupied side, his arms folded behind his head and his features relaxed. Very relaxed. In fact, she's never seen him look so at ease in the short amount of time that she's spent with him.

"Um," Laura says. She blinks. "I haven't-I mean, _move _here?"

"Well, yeah." He pauses. "You can still work for the company. Nothing has to change."

She raises her eyebrows. "What about the policy?"

"I just rewrote it," he says, grinning. "More seriously…no one has to know."

"Everyone probably thinks so already." She closes her eyes. "God, I don't know. I mean-I'll stay to help take down Weapon X, of course...but I have a mission."

"A mission?" he asks.

"I have to apologize to the family of each and every person whose life I took," she replies softly. "I'm trying to start my own life, and I can't do that until my other one is over."

"It _is_ over," he says, his voice full of argument. "You don't need to do all that...because it wasn't you who did all that. If anyone should apologize, it's the people who made you. Like my father."

"But I still made the ultimate choice," Laura murmurs. "What I did when I spared your life makes that clear. I _chose. _My first decision, ever. Why didn't I do that sooner?"

"Self-preservation," he says. "Laura- don't beat yourself up over something that you had no part in."

She sits up. "I had a _huge_ part. I was the one to take their lives."

"If a soldier pulls the trigger, who is responsible?" he asks.

She pauses. "The soldier."

"And who is responsible for the soldier?" he continues.

"No, Julian...it doesn't work like that."

"It does. Trust me...I've spent a good deal of time grappling with the question of your guilt. And I realized that you don't _have_ any. The fact that you could make any choice at all...in that situation...you're better than a whole lot of people. Maybe better than me. Like some kind of...like something _divine._"

Laura raises her eyebrow. "Are you religious?"

"No." He pauses. "You're pretty strong evidence, though." He reaches and pulls her down, kisses her again with the same amount of desperation that had been present a few minutes earlier.

When they separate, Laura studies him with half-lidded eyes. "I can't promise you anything," she says, after a few moments. "I need to think. But I'll stay to end Weapon X, for good. What's the strategy for that going to be?"

Julian closes his eyes, obviously forcing himself to relax. "You'll start coming into board meetings with me, as my P.A...and you can search for the piece of shit on a more thorough level than I can, since you can smell lies, right?"

"I can detect concealment through bodily functions, yes," Laura says. "And when we find him?"

"We do nothing-not until we know where the facility is." He tenses. "And then we get a lot of C-4. I don't trust the government to do the job right."

"Mmm." She purses her lips. "Sounds like a plan."

**...**

"Look, at least stay _here_ until we finish this," Julian says, at the door to his apartment.

She is hiking her back pack over her shoulder, preparing to return to the hotel after having had a hot shower. Her hair is still wet, sleeked back into a ponytail and leaving a damp mark on her jacket.

"What? With you?" she asks, surprised.

"Yeah." He pauses. "I can sleep on the sofa...if you want. Although-" he grins. "I had a few ideas of things I want to try."

Laura considers this. "This wouldn't be just a one-time thing, then," she says.

"Probably not." He leans on the doorframe. "Did you want it to be?"

"Well-I don't know." She shrugs slightly. "Like I said...I have a mission. And once this is done, I have to go and complete it. If we continue this, it might be harder to do that."

Julian winces. "So you would rather not see where this goes."

"It won't be a quick or easy thing for me to fulfill my plans," she says. "You alone took almost a week. Others will take longer-there are twenty-two other family names on the list...and not all of those families will still be together. It'll take a long time to track them down, and-"

"I'll do it for you," he cuts in. "I have an investigative team. I can have everything in about forty-eight hours...names, addresses, phone numbers...police records, if you need."

Laura pauses. "That would feel like cheating."

He runs a hand through his hair. "Come on. Please cut me a break here."

"I can't." She gives him a sad smile.

Julian blows out air through his mouth. "I didn't picture you being the one to turn me down."

Laura looks at the ground. "I'm not turning you down. I've got to finish what I started. But it doesn't mean I don't _want_ to stay."

He reaches out and brushes a strand of escaping hair behind her ear. "I guess I understand. Will you...will you at least come and find me when you're done?"

"Yes." She smiles, a bit more genuinely now.

"Okay." He leans forward and kisses her, his eyes closed. "Goodbye, Laura. Are you sure I can't give you a ride?"

"Positive. I need to walk it out." She pulls away and waves slightly. "See you at work, boss."

"See you," he says. He goes back into his apartment and shuts the door, and feels the creeping sense of loneliness beginning again.


End file.
